This summer.

  An awkward silence fell upon us in the car as the blaring radio continued to fill us up with the newest pop songs. It wasn't because we didn't like each other or anything, quite the contrary in fact, we've come to be family. A moment of companionable silence as we pondered how fast time slipped between our fingers. 3 weeks in the bat of an eye. It didn't get much better once we reached the train station either. We hugged, and I left.

  There they go. Another family that blew my mind with their unprejudiced kindness and bold-faced hospitality. How easily they welcomed a foreign stranger into their home and treated me nothing short as a son of their own. A slitty-eyed, language-impaired son, but a son nonetheless. I wish I could thank them enough for their generosity, but I know no amount of gifts or material possesions could cut it. So I left them with kind words and memories. I'm a cheap bastard like that.

  I've been given a grand total of 6 weeks of summer holidays here in Germany. Six weeks to see it all. Six weeks to do it all. Six weeks of freedom before that prison of a school starts rounding up all it's convicts again. Five weeks in, and I'm already slumped in my recliner, half-dead from a blocked nose and a back that's screaming bloody murder from sleeping on a rock-bed of a mattress. But I still had that smug look on my face. A smug look that said :' It's been a hell of a ride.'

  Maybe it was the places I visited. From the towering trees of the Black forest to the actual towers of Berlin, and all the gooey bits in between. I've had the treat of seeing them. It's humbling really, when I realise how tiny my world really is. To have my definitions and boundaries of the world shattered bit by bit as I travel around this part of Europe. An occasional crystal-clear river or a perfect sunset over the horizon shows me how big the world really is, and how small my problems really are.

  Maybe it was the things I've done. They say novelty is key to a happy and healthy mind. There's been no shortage of that. Whether it's slaving over a hot stove for the family or strumming on guitar strings for the first time, this summer has been an eye-opener. It doesn't matter what you do really, long as you step out and take a bat at some new things. After all, it ain't about how much you know, it's about how much you know you don't, and making the effort to.

  Maybe it's the people I've met. An 18 year-old vegetarian bombshell. A rock climber whose also a single mom. An Argentinian photographer who plans on taking on Iceland. All sorts of people from all walks of life, each one sharing a bit of their story with me. A bit of their lives. And their stories have done everything from inspiring me to making me want to pull the trigger on myself. And to think, there's 7 billion more of them out there, each one special in their own quirky way.

  A big shame now that it's almost over though. There's something about having too much fun in one time. Once you get back to your normal routine, you're bound to feel the recoil of reality. Sorta like the monday blues. I guess I'll just cuddle myself up into a ball and indulge on all the Nutella I can until I get into the jive of things again. Momma did always tell me:' Don't be sad because it's over, be glad it happened.' And I'm damn glad I had this summer.